Chapter Text
Heartthrob Chef – Participating in Charity Liveshow alongside A-Lister Qiu Haitang
– is the headline on a trashy tabloid that lists a rather opinionated and somewhat steamy review of the chef in question, a tall and handsome young man fresh into adulthood.
His gaze is both clear and intense, yet almost friendly in a way that makes the viewer feel as though they were stepping into a welcoming, warm bath. His skin is pristine and clear, hair and eyes sheer and shining black, the curls of his dark hair framing his angelic face. He’s tall and broad shouldered yet still slim and thin waisted in a nearly androgynous way, drawing even the straightest man’s eye in to observe his breathtaking figure.
He stands next to the actress Qiu Haitang who has become very popular for featuring in various dramatic romance movies. Her beauty pairs decently well with the jade-like Adonis beside her – though, of course she’s outshined by him by a landslide.
And yet! These hacks at the magazine company had named her instead of him. Morons.
Privately, Shen Yuan had always found her acting a bit cringey and nasally. Nothing at all like the action drama lead, Liu Mingyan, who Shen Yuan had always quite wanted to see beside Luo Binghe once he’d begun standing beside big stars like this. Now their beauty would match perfectly. Both intelligent, gentle-spoken, yet commanding gems shining in their respective fields… Shen Yuan nods approvingly at his fanmade mental image.
With a steady hand, Shen Yuan takes his boxcutter and places the magazine cover down on his cutting board, carefully drawing a box around Luo Binghe’s figure. He’s unable to avoid getting part of Qiu Haitang in it as well, scowling at the tip of her hand that intrudes, but…
He looks at Luo Binghe’s shining face and eyes, dark as night and just as lovely, as if stars shone in their depths, and sighs happily. All his irritation vanishes. He even feels somewhat rejuvenated, better than slamming an energy drink.
Turning to his wall, he finds a clear spot and pastes some double sided tape to the photo before putting it up. Scooting back in his chair he looks at his wall with a hefty amount of admiration.
A sprawling collage of tabloid photos and social media pictures spread like a cloud across his wall, nearly every angle of Luo Binghe’s face captured. Smiles, frowns, contemplative glances, shirt rolled up to his elbows as he kneads dough, a finger in his mouth as he tastes sauce, some flour dusted charmingly over his nose, standing beside children in need, in suits, shirtless after a work out – everything catalogued and put up for Shen Yuan’s eyes.
Once, Shen Yuan had asked his sister why she pasted pictures of her chosen idols and pop stars at the moment and she’d said she likes surrounding herself with pretty things.
Well. She’d said ‘pretty boys’ and not ‘pretty things’, but Shen Yuan got the idea.
Pretty things are… nice. They make you feel good when you look at them.
That had been the start of it all, Shen Yuan seeing someone pretty that made him feel good when looking at him. It wasn’t gay or anything, it was simply an appreciation of natural beauty. What was a beautiful face for, if not to look at?
The first time he’d seen Luo Binghe online was by pure chance a few years back when the chef had still been just a teenager posting on Bilibili while clicking around for something to watch. He doesn’t cook, hadn’t been interested in watching anyone cook, and yet he’d stopped and taken a peek in anyways and been entranced. What a well-spoken, sweet faced youth…! He’d been unable to look away and immediately begun consuming every video made.
Addictive!
Truly breathtaking!
Combing through videos and interviews, compiling information through forums and fan sites dedicated to him, Shen Yuan had gradually formed the image of Luo Binghe in his mind:
A youth born to an unknown couple and orphaned or abandoned at birth given up and taken in by a caring woman in a tiny, poor village. That woman, despite her best efforts, had then also perished and Luo Binghe had picked himself up by his bootstraps and somehow begun forging a name for himself in the bigger cities through creating cooking content online.
Educating himself, earning enough money through back-breaking and thankless work to buy himself a home and a computer, and finally being intelligent, well-spoken, and charming enough to form himself a fanbase from the ground up. Nowadays among hyper rich families and manufactured idols, it’s rare to see a success story like this anymore. But Luo Binghe had done it, and Shen Yuan admires him for it.
And even as a teenager, still slender and young like a fresh stalk of bamboo, Luo Binghe had been handsome enough to catch Shen Yuan’s – and many others’ – eye. He’s only grown to be more and more beautiful, and more and more captivating to watch.
His eyes rake over his wall of photos, admiring the strong slope of Luo Binghe’s nose, the fullness of his cheeks, and the cupid bow’s arch of his lips. His strong but lithe body and large hands, his dark eyes full of vigour.
Shen Yuan… admires him quite a lot.
Something stirs low in his belly and he relaxes back into his seat, pushing down the band of his sweatpants and popping the cap of a well-used bottle of lotion he keeps next to him. This happens sometimes when he sits for too long thinking of Luo Binghe. He doesn’t bother to investigate why. It happens, he handles it.
As he wraps a hand around himself, he flicks his gaze from the oldest photo, one of young and spritely Xiao-He (as the aunties love to call him), only barely sixteen. Shen Yuan finds him quite cute, still burning with passion but not yet matured. It’s one of his favourites. Wide eyes, sparkling gaze, slender and pouting as he works at a delicate looking cake – Shen Yuan wants to spoil him silly.
His gaze drifts slowly towards a small cluster of photographs taken from Luo Binghe’s social media, showing him sweating and warm after working out. He takes very good care of his body, always healthy, always making sure to be a good role model for others.
Shen Yuan's eyes trace over slender curves of muscles, spotless and clean skin that looks soft and tender, unmarked and pure. His small and dusky brown nipples in the photo are pebbled, with some drops of sweat clinging to his pecs.
He flicks his eyes up to meet the photographed Luo Binghe's, shivering hard at his flushed and sweaty face. The laughter in his eyes as he smiles at the camera capturing him. Shen Yuan has heard him laugh in streams and live shows, knows the tinkling and clear, bell-like laughter as if by heart. He'd once made it his alert tone, only to replace it eventually with Luo Binghe thanking him on stream for his donation.
"Many thanks, Cucumber-ge," Luo Binghe had beamed at him, and Shen Yuan had needed to urgently relieve his hard cock right after.
Photo after photo, Shen Yuan admires them all. Some of them are from when he was young. Some of them are more recent. All of them are beautiful and precious.
The lotion makes it slick and he quickly warms, back arching in his chair and his thighs growing tense. Shlick, shlick – faster and faster, palming at the drooling head of his cock as he stares at a photo of Luo Binghe bent over a table at a cooking show, a teasing photo with flour dusted over his black slacks. His ass is curved, the seams of the pants going right down the middle, the cloth clinging on and showing the shape perfectly. It looks so…
…
Shen Yuan has a very fleeting thought of what it must look like underneath and feels as if he's been kicked in the stomach from how tight his arousal suddenly winds. It aches, his thighs ache from the tension, stomach aching, balls aching, god –
He only manages to conjure the thought of a random, unknown woman at the last moment, her hair curled and soft (like Luo Binghe's), shoulders a bit broad and strong and her ass perfectly, perfectly shaped as he fucks into her. When she moans in his fantasy she sounds husky and deep (a little like how Luo Binghe sounds when he tastes something especially divine). When she turns her head, her eyes are deep black and warm and only looking at him–
With a moan more like a whimper, Shen Yuan comes. "Hah – ah, fuck–!"
He comes onto the magazine, gasping and eyes screwing shut. Despite his hastily constructed fantasy of that woman, the image of Luo Binghe smiling into the camera as he shows his toned, trim body seems seared to the backs of his eyelids. He shivers and swallows roughly, throat feeling dry, an immense longing for – something, aching inside of him.
The feeling passes by the time he sits back up and looks with distaste at the magazine. Wiping his dirtied hand across Qiu Haitang's face, he tosses it into the trash without much care. He’s already taken the photo of Luo Binghe from it; there’s nothing else of worth left in it.
It's about three days out until Shen Yuan gets to see Luo Binghe live.
The aunties and sisters on the LBH forums are chattering away yet again, all excited about the upcoming liveshow. Shen Yuan sips a cup of tea and contributes to the conversation now and then, giving little ♥s on the photos of Luo Binghe that they post.
One of the sisters puts up a somewhat blurry picture that she’d obviously taken on her phone while passing by him on the street, gushing about how the timbre of his voice sounded when so close to him, the others all ooh-ing and ah-ing and expressing their jealousy of her. He nods sagely, agreeing with her emphatically. Even seeing him in a liveshow was nothing compared to how he sounds up close in real life, something special in him sparking most brightly when looking right at you.
Naturally, Shen Yuan has seen him up-close in real life, but Luo Binghe hasn't seen him.
The photo – while amateurish – is charming in its own way. Luo Binghe is in the middle of a crowd, one hand sweeping his bangs out of his face and his eyes turned up to the sky. Is he looking at something? Simply observing the sky? If it were anyone else, Shen Yuan might think of it as a gaudy, staged social media photo, but this is Luo Binghe.
Shen Yuan looks at it and saves it into a folder on his computer where he keeps all the others. When he gets better quality photo paper, he'll print it out and put it on the wall.
As he clicks back to the forum, he sees a post that catches his eye.
Xiao-He changing spots T^T°•. Come back to auntie!!
It's from a member he recognizes from fan meetings, a kindly auntie in her forties who had first watched Luo Binghe to see his recipes, then fallen in love with the boy and wanted to coddle and pamper him. Shen Yuan had quite liked her and felt her motherly kindness was a thousand times better than the swaths of girls who simply viewed him as a sexy slab of meat.
Look, he gets it. Luo Binghe is hot, and it's not gay to think so when it's objectively true. He's exceedingly well spoken, commands your attention with the simplest flick of his gaze towards you, is dressed impeccably, and keeps himself in very good physical condition. Even Shen Yuan likes looking at him, because he enjoys beautiful things.
But Luo Binghe also has a heart? A brain? A soul? He's more than just… meat??
So that said, he likes this auntie who goes by MamaMantou. He clicks on her post and reads her enthusiastic but disheartened words. In short, the side of the stage Luo Binghe had been purported to be on, and the side most of his fans bought tickets for, had been swapped. Meaning, they'd be stuck in front of Qiu Haitang.
Shen Yuan's lip curls. He doesn't comment on the post and instead hops onto the ticket selling website looking for a refund or a swap, but the site denies him at every turn. Even when he manages to get on the phone with another human being, they politely but stiffly deny him exchanging spots for another though they'd been willing to accept him refunding.
As if!
He hasn't given up yet!
A fire lit in his heart, he goes to other websites, those with scalpers looking to make a nice dollar off of letting someone who had been late to the party buy up something last minute. For some, the prices would gouge their wallets deeply. For Shen Yuan, it's not even a dent in his monthly allowance from his family.
Trawling his way through various different scammers, he eventually finds one claiming to be from a mother giving up her seat due to his son suddenly falling ill and needing to care for him. The ticket is nearly three times the original asking price, and he's certain this isn't a true story, but he can pretend it is. And if his family does happen to notice and ask, he can claim it to be for a charitable act.
How kind of you, Shen Yuan!
He secures his spot in the third row. It's a little closer than he'd like. He prefers being in the middle, neither too far nor too close.
Ah, well, he thinks. Luo Binghe won't notice me anyways. It will be simply another face in the crowd.
After all, Shen Yuan has never excelled at anything nor been of note at anything – he is the type of person to think that coming in tenth place is alright, so long as there are eleven people competing. He isn't a person of note.
That settled, he returns to the forums and continues scrolling to find more new and unseen pictures.
From the third row, Luo Binghe looks larger than life.
He's stunning like this, done up for the television camera. Though even if he'd simply rolled out of bed and walked on, Shen Yuan knows he'd still look as devastatingly handsome as always, because he'd done so on stream a small handful of times. In fact the gentle muss of hair and sleepy droop to his eyes made him even more beautiful to observe. Intimate in a close friend way.
Shen Yuan's seatmates are two middle-aged women, one of whom he recognizes from fan meets and goes by WisePeach – they exchange small and excited smiles – and the other is a stranger. Despite that, she smiles at them too, and Shen Yuan is once again struck by how Luo Binghe's own kindness and openness seeps into his audience.
(He forgets that this woman may in fact be here for Qiu Haitang.)
When Luo Binghe begins talking, stranger or not, Shen Yuan immediately ignores the people around him. There's simply something compelling about his voice that makes you unable to look away.
"Thank you all so much for coming," Luo Binghe bows to them, waving and smiling, eyes bright and clear. "I'm so honoured and blessed to see so many people here to support children in need."
WisePeach sighs and flutters her hands, as if overwhelmed to the point of being forced to move and expel that energy. Very understandable! Sharing her excitement in spirit, Shen Yuan drinks up his appearance and humble words, every bit of it like a sip of cool water to his parched throat. There's something irreplaceable about this energy that is simply impossible to find elsewhere. Luo Binghe is the sun itself and everyone in this building – world, even – are simply small and insignificant dust floating around his gravity.
Once Luo Binghe’s greeting is done, Qiu Haitang arrives next to him. Shen Yuan doesn't sneer, but it comes close.
While Luo Binghe would look as beautiful as the stars no matter what, Shen Yuan thinks she probably could have done with a few more minutes in the makeup room. With the two of them standing together, it's even more obvious how much Luo Binghe outclasses her.
Her words fade into obscurity as Shen Yuan returns to admiring Luo Binghe, feeling warm and sated, as if having eaten a full meal. He thinks sometimes he could subsist off only feasting his eyes on this wonderful and charming person, and has even frequently forgotten to eat after hours of indulging in his Luo Binghe habit.
When Luo Binghe sweeps his gaze across the audience, Shen Yuan's heart thuds happily as their eyes seem to meet for a fleeting moment.
That's more than enough for him. That second of acknowledgement, and the support Shen Yuan has given by purchasing seats for this event, that is enough for him. He doesn’t ask for much. As long as he can watch his idol living his best life, that’s really all the reward he needs.
Really, that’s all he needs!
The two of them discuss the charity briefly – something set up by a few big names in order to help provide for unfortunate children who lacked parents and support, and while Luo Binghe himself does not speak on his personal life, Shen Yuan knows it. His birth parents and adoptive mother all had died and left him behind, abandoning him to a life of struggle. It’s only by the virtue of his hard work ethic that Luo Binghe had flourished so much.
If, back then, Luo Binghe had had support…
If, back then, Shen Yuan had known him and could have given him support…
He would have spoiled that child rotten. He really would have. It had been impossible for him to find photos of Luo Binghe as his small, fresh, green bud before he’d bloomed in his teen years, and Shen Yuan just knows he would have been exceptionally cute.
If he’d been his mother – ah, no, just – what he means is, if he’d known Luo Binghe when he’d been a child, he would have pampered Luo Binghe until he was so sweet and delicate he’d melt with a drop of water! And taken many, many, many photos!
… look, the loss of Luo Binghe’s baby photos is a loss on par with the loss of the Library of Alexandria!!
He settles back into his seat and watches with rapt attention until the end of the show, conveniently live editing around Qiu Haitang and memorizing purely the way Luo Binghe’s forearms look when he rolls his sleeves up and kneads the dough for sweets.
The show ends far too soon.
Shen Yuan waits in the hallways leading outside back to the lobby for a bit until most of the stragglers have gone through. One of the aunties from the fan group, the one who'd been sitting next to him, sees him and waves him over with an excited flush to her face.
"Cucumber-er," she coos like the kindly auntie she is. "Xiao-He was so handsome tonight! Even more than normal!"
He nods, yes, yes! Agreed! Completely agreed!
“He makes a very good pair with Qiu Haitang, don’t you think?”
His face wrinkles into a look of disgust before he can help it. “She’s not good enough for Xiao– for Luo Binghe.”
She chuckles warmly, patting his shoulder as if he'd said something funny rather than having stated the pure and simple truth. "Some of us are going to eat together after this. Come, come!"
When she tugs at his arm to pull him along he resists, unsure what to say to get out of her attempts to include him. If they had suddenly met up on the street and Shen Yuan didn’t have anything to do and Luo Binghe wasn’t around doing something worth watching over, of course he’d go along! He likes talking to people about their shared hobby. Shen Yuan takes it much more seriously and is much more of a pure fan than any of them but still, it’s fun.
At the moment though he has something he needs to do.
“Ah, I need to… um.” He looks around for an excuse. “... bathroom.”
She nods with a small frown and waves him off. “Well alright, dear, send a message in the group chat if you change your mind!”
He won’t.
Quickly walking away from her, he loiters in the bathroom for a few minutes before coming back out and confidently heading down another hallway, one that leads out to the side past dressing rooms rather than out of the front through the lobby. He’s become aware of the fact that if you act as if you belong somewhere, whether you do or not, people’s eyes will simply glaze over you. Don’t make a fuss, don’t keep your head down and look suspicious, don’t do anything out of the ordinary, and you’re in perfect disguise.
He wanders through the staff area and goes past a few gathered groups of dressers and camera operators, eyes roving for curled, handsome locks of hair and a trim, handsome figure.
The very first time he'd gone to a liveshow, after watching Luo Binghe’s entire video catalogue and following him online for a few years, he'd naturally taken the first row right in front of where Luo Binghe would be mainly situated. It had been a religious experience. Seeing his beauty in person, hearing his voice so close – Shen Yuan had been starstruck.
He'd been so young still. Only a fresh adult at eighteen, still tender and sweet, just the new and soft greens growing at the very beginning of spring. So young, and yet so warm and so kind, and so inviting to watch.
After that, Shen Yuan had been overcome with fear that this gentle and innocent soul could be taken advantage of and hurt. To open himself to fans this way, to open that door to the chance that some obsessed and terrible person may take that precious young man and do something awful… Shen Yuan couldn't stand it. He couldn't allow it.
Naturally then, for the past two years, he'd begun following Luo Binghe whenever possible since.
The moment when his idol is most sensitive and in danger is when he’s tired after a show and is going home alone at night. It’s only right that as his elder and truest fan, Shen Yuan should accompany him along to keep him safe. It’s like… chaperoning!
A father wouldn’t let his daughter walk home alone at night and neither would Shen Yuan let Luo Binghe walk home alone at night. It’s only sensible.
If something happened, Shen Yuan would never forgive himself. Anything could, after all.
A thief trying to mug him, stabbing him and leaving him bleeding in some alley with no one to comfort him and hold his hand until the ambulance arrives…
An accident where he’s struck by a car because he was too tired to pay attention, and no one was there to tug him back from the road, or at least to keep him comfortable and cradle his head in their lap…
Or an obsessive fan deciding to push him down. Shen Yuan knows there are other male fans with less pure intentions than his. They could push him down, hold a knife to his neck, gag him and tie him up and cut all of his clothing off, before fucking him right there on the dirty ground. Who would help him? Who would stop that person from raping his idol and fucking him until he’s dirty and filthy and ruined? Covered in blood and tears, and semen dripping from between his legs?
His throat suddenly feels a little dry and an intense throbbing at his groin makes him feel a little woozy. He blinks a few times to erase the mental image and subtly adjusts himself in his pants so his erection is less visible.
Right. That’s why he needs to chaperone Luo Binghe. If Shen Yuan isn’t there, anything could happen.
Just then the gravity well of Luo Binghe suddenly activates and draws his eyes over to the far side of the room as a door opens and Luo Binghe steps out. It’s his assigned dressing room he’s leaving, with his bag slung over a shoulder and his jacket on. He’s put his hair back into a low ponytail and he looks crushingly handsome even under the reedy, yellowish lights.
“Good work, everyone,” he says warmly.
Shen Yuan’s stomach aches a little oddly. The vision of Luo Binghe now melts into his – not fantasy – from before, imagining the faceless fan grabbing onto that ponytail and pulling hard at it. His throat clicks when he swallows.
As Luo Binghe goes around the room talking to people and sharing small ‘thank you’s and ‘good job’s, Shen Yuan sneaks past and goes into his room. It’s completely safe. No one is looking at a nobody when the sun itself is shining down on them in their dingy little backroom.
In the dressing room, he takes a quick look around. There’s nothing left behind of personal value that Shen Yuan would be able to send back to Luo Binghe at his apartment, purely out of good intentions, and the only other thing is a half-drunk bottle of water. Shen Yuan takes a look at it. He turns to leave, then turns back and takes another look at it.
Following an impulse he doesn’t understand, he snatches up the bottle, opens it, and takes a drink, right from the same spot he imagines Luo Binghe would have drunk from.
He’s just thirsty. That’s the only reason why.
… He imagines it tastes a little sweet, and wonders if Luo Binghe’s saliva tastes that way. When he swallows down the mouthful of water, the aching throb at his groin intensifies. Shen Yuan valiantly ignores it and licks up the last droplet of water from around the rim of the bottle, tongue tracing every bit of it and imagining more sweetness, before he finally puts it back down and takes a peek back out.
Luo Binghe is heading away, the other staff members also getting back to work in order to clean up and prepare for the next day.
Silently, unnoticed and unaccosted, Shen Yuan follows him through the doors that lead out into the streets in the back. Luo Binghe walks confidently with long strides, hair bouncing with every step. When his head turns to take a quick glance down the street to the right, Shen Yuan notes the flat expression on his face. The usual welcoming, friendly smile and warm, soothing gaze are gone, wallpapered over by something empty and distant.
Luo Binghe always looks this way when he’s alone, Shen Yuan knows. When he thinks no one is around. That beautiful smile comes right back the instant someone looks his way as Luo Binghe is naturally put back into his deserved spotlight, of course, but when alone? There’s nothing there when he thinks no one is watching.
But Shen Yuan is watching, and Shen Yuan keeps this part of Luo Binghe a very closely guarded secret.
It’s only natural that Luo Binghe would be tired after so much work! It isn’t that his friendliness is a mask that he takes off when alone, like an act or a switch that can be turned on and off at a moment’s notice. It’s just… It’s just that Luo Binghe is human. Genuinely, breathtakingly human. He’s allowed to not be perfect at every waking moment.
Actually, that makes him more perfect in Shen Yuan’s eyes, because no one else knows this about Luo Binghe. It’s a shared secret between them. It’s special.
Luo Binghe heads out onto the streets, walking past some staff members’ cars and stepping into an entrance that leads through a darkened alleyway which eventually opens up to a larger street with bus depots that he uses to get home. A few lamps light the way, casting long and eerie shadows, and Luo Binghe looks nearly ethereal and dream-like in the dreary night.
After a few moments, Shen Yuan steps out and follows him, walking quietly.
There’s been enough practice for him to move quite silently and quickly after Luo Binghe, trailing far enough behind for his features to be obscured in the possible case that Luo Binghe turns around and spots him.
Nothing happens, and Luo Binghe exits the alley completely unharmed. Shen Yuan takes out his phone and snaps a quick photo; proof of safe delivery, he thinks. He adds it to a folder full of dozens of others just like it: Luo Binghe stepping into a busy street as Shen Yuan watches from a darkened alley, unseen and unnoticed.
At home, Shen Yuan’s stomach still aches with his unreleased arousal.
He stumbles into his room and opens a drawer, pulling out a cocksleeve and dumping lube into it. It’s cold and tight but he forces his dick into it anyways. He’s been hard since before, a stain of precome smeared into his boxers that’s come to be a regular affair he needs to deal with after seeing Luo Binghe live, though it’s worse tonight.
As he starts slowly dragging the sleeve over his heated cock, the mental image about Luo Binghe being attacked slowly crawls back into his mind’s eye, slithering through his entire body and brain like a wicked snake.
In the alley, there’s a small alcove about midway through where someone could hide. It would be easy to remain unnoticed there until Luo Binghe has passed, then to sneak out behind him and smash his head into a brick wall of the alley.
If he were dazed from the first attack, it would be so easy to take zip ties and clasp them around his wrists and ankles. A gag, too, could be easily slipped between his teeth before he could recuperate. Even someone small like Shen Yuan could do it. In his mind’s eye, he pictures it: a lithe, small man pushing down the slender yet well-defined figure of Luo Binghe. The way his curled, soft hair would clump into the ugly, bloody wound on his head from the shove.
Ah, but he’d look handsome like that too, Shen Yuan thinks as he fucks into the sleeve a little harder, his breath coming quicker. It’s the same appeal as an action heroine with the smallest dab of blood on her cheek to draw out her true charm.
After that, Luo Binghe would be defenseless, unable to defend himself, unable to speak… All he’d be able to do is cry. Whine. Whimper.
“Fuck… Ah…” Shen Yuan squeezes his eyes shut as the imagined vision of the scene becomes clearer and more detailed, his mind using the hundreds and hundreds of hours of watching Luo Binghe to simulate what he might sound like. Deep, a little raspy, thin with fear– “Fuck…”
Then the fan would drag him back into that alcove to remain unseen from the street, cut his shirt open and pull his pants down… The traffic from the street would drown out any moaning or crying and leave Luo Binghe completely, utterly, achingly at the cruel whims of the obsessive fan.
That fan could do anything.
Shen Yuan isn’t a gay man but he wouldn’t be able to blame one for wanting to fuck Luo Binghe. There isn’t a more desirable man out there. If he were a man attracted to other men in that way, well. Who would be able to resist fucking him?
Who would be able to resist pinning Luo Binghe down in the privacy of that little alcove with his front roughly dragging over the asphalt as his attacker spreads his ass and fucks into his tight hole? In Shen Yuan’s mind, Luo Binghe is a virgin. He’s too pure, too good, keeping himself for someone who loves him. But like this, having his virginity stolen so violently, so horribly…
The thought of someone doing such an unspeakable act to his idol infuriates him, a hot flush spreading up his neck and an uncomfortable sensation tingling in his belly.
The fantasy deepens and he imagines being there, watching it. The sounds Luo Binghe would make would be ragged and rough from being taken by a stranger in a dirty, dingy alley, pitched with terror and pain. His imagination fills in the sounds, masculine and erotic, the exact ones he’d imagined before. Shen Yuan comes a bit imagining it, legs locking tightly, vision swimming.
The lube warms as he starts moving in earnest, grabbing it with both hands just like he imagines the attacker would grab Luo Binghe’s waist, dragging the sleeve back onto himself as he fucks it with sharp, sloppy movements of his hips. The arousal simmering in him for an hour now has primed him, and he’s already close to the edge, his balls tightening up and throbbing with the desire to spill.
By now, Shen Yuan is sweating with effort, shirt sticking to his skin and hands becoming slick and clammy. The moment he regains control of himself, he begins fucking the toy harder, putting his back into the motion, gasping and panting.
The wet sounds of the lube frothing up as he fucks the toy meld with the dream Luo Binghe’s moan – in his fantasy, Luo Binghe’s pain would slowly morph into pleasure, unable to stop himself from rocking back into his rapist’s thrusting. From his vantage point peeping in on the violent act, all he would be able to see is Luo Binghe’s slender back and curled, black hair, his pretty face pressed into the rough ground.
His attacker would be panting too, small and lithe just like Shen Yuan, abusing the precious man on the ground until the attacker comes inside him raw. Long, wet, hot, spilling every drop of thick semen into Luo Binghe’s defenseless hole until the attacker finally pulls away after having ruined him utterly. That once pink, tight, virgin hole would be gaping and drooling white, turned red and puffy, well-used in a way that will never go back to how it was.
When the attacker leaves, Shen Yuan would go to Luo Binghe’s side. He’d help him. Rescue him. Pet his hair and soothe his cries. He imagines how messy Luo Binghe’s face would look afterwards as he clings to Shen Yuan for comfort – blood at his temple, tears and snot dripping down his face, sweat dotting at his temple…
Shen Yuan’s cock is so hard it aches.
He imagines how Luo Binghe would curl into his side, sniffling and sobbing, his purity dragged through the mud and spit on. How Luo Binghe might call him gege, how Luo Binghe might beg his gege for help, how Luo Binghe might spread his legs and beg for Shen Yuan to get the filthy, thick, oozing semen out of him, how Luo Binghe needs his gege to help him–
His orgasm hits him like a punch to his gut: unexpected and strong enough that it hurts, feeling as if it’s bruised his stomach and legs. The tension stays wound tightly as he fucks his orgasm into the toy roughly, grunting with effort. The imagined expression of pain and needy fear in Luo Binghe’s face as he depends completely and utterly on Shen Yuan seeds deep into him, sating a desire he hadn’t even fully known he had.
Sucking in a breath and slumping onto his bed, he slowly pulls the toy off his cock and opens his phone as he comes off his high. Luo Binghe’s posted a selfie with a beaming smile that doesn’t belie even an ounce of the exhaustion he must actually feel, thanking his supporters for coming to the show.
Suddenly guilty, Shen Yuan, with a great deal of practice, buries his awful sexual fantasy deep where he can’t look at it anymore.